Of All the Things I Hid From You
by 25Stella27
Summary: Harvey makes a terrible discovery when Mike shows him police files concerning his parent's death. But while Harvey is still figuring out how to react to it, he is confronted with an entirely different type of cataclysm.
1. Chapter 1

Harvey knew he should have seen it sooner. He should have known. He should have looked into it as soon as he had so much as an inkling that the possibility existed. But he hadn't.

"Harvey?" The concern in Mike's voice made him feel sick.

He knew that he had to tell him, that he had to tell him right then, that he had no right to stay silent. But he just couldn't. Part of his mind tried to convince himself that it was because he didn't want to hurt Mike, another that maybe, maybe he was wrong, but the truth was that he was simply too much of a coward to do it.

"Harvey? Are you okay?"

He knew he had to respond, had to tear himself away from the date burning into his retina.

"I'm fine, sorry," he managed at last, wondering if Mike could hear the guilt seeping into his voice. He looked up at his associate, forcing a smile.

"You're sure?" Mike asked with a frown. "You look quite pale…Maybe you caught a bug or something."

Harvey twisted away as Mike reached to feel his forehead. He knew his normal reaction would have been to snap at Mike that he was fine, whether it was true or not. He opened his mouth to do so but he couldn't bring himself to say the words.

For an awkward moment he just sat there, leaned back on the couch, Mike's hand hovering where his forehead had been.

The frown on Mike's face deepened. "You're not biting my head off for trying this? Are you sure you're all right?"

"I…" Just looking at Mike made his stomach twist.

"I feel a bit nauseous," he admitted at last. It wasn't a lie, but it was so far from what he was supposed to say that it felt like one.

Mike stared at him. "Are you going to throw up in the next ten seconds? Because that's like the only reason I can imagine for you admitting to this…"

"Mike…" He didn't know what he wanted to say. He felt the words that needed to be said bubbling up but they got caught somewhere in the back of his throat.

Mike's slightly bemused face changed to concerned again and Harvey had to look away. Because he knew if Mike knew the truth it wouldn't be with concern that he would be looking at him.

"So, you're feeling sick?" Mike said softly, again reaching for Harvey's forehead. This time Harvey allowed it. "You don't seem to have a fever. Maybe it's something you ate?"

Harvey just managed to shrug. "Maybe. I'm sure it'll be fine after a bit of rest."

It wouldn't be, but he needed Mike to leave. He needed to think, to talk to Jessica…

"Okay," Mike said, clearly not sure what to do. "Sorry for bothering you… It's just that I needed to talk to someone…"

Harvey felt his stomach twist again, tasted the bile rising in his throat.

„Harvey? Are you -? Whoa!"

Mike flinched back as Harvey pinched over and got sick on the floor. "A bit more of a warning would have been nice…"

Harvey felt the couch giving in as Mike sat down next to him, reaching out to rub his back in silent support.

"I'm sorry," Harvey panted when he was done at last.

"It's fine," Mike assured.  
 _  
It so isn't_ , Harvey thought but he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Do you want me to take you to a doctor?" Mike offered.

Harvey shook his head. Just the thought of Mike taking care of him made him feel nauseous again.

"No, I'm fine. I just need some sleep…"

Mike gave a short nod and got to his feet. For a moment, Harvey hoped he was just going to leave but a few seconds later he returned with a glass of water and some kitchen roll.

"Don't," Harvey managed as he saw Mike bending down to clean. "I'll do it."

He took the kitchen roll from Mike and started to wipe the floor himself.

"Drink the water at least," Mike insisted handing him the glass. Harvey emptied it in eager gulps, but it didn't make him feel much better.

He knew he had to say something, to reassure Mike that he was fine because he couldn't even stand the _thought_ of Mike worrying about him.

"It's best you go now," he managed at last, hoping the words wouldn't sound hurtful to Mike. "I need to sleep it off."

As if sleep would help. As if sleep would end this nightmare…

Mike hovered uncertainly. "Are you sure you don't need anything? Medicine? A doctor's opinion?"

Harvey shook his head and somehow managed to force a smile. "Just some rest."

Mike nodded but he still wouldn't go away. "Seriously, Mike, I'm fine."

Mike scoffed. "You're not. You just threw up and admitted to feeling unwell…" He hesitated. „You promise you'll call a doctor when you get worse? Or at least Donna?"

Harvey gave a tired nod.

"Okay, then…" Mike slowly walked towards the door.

"Wait," Harvey called, fumbling with his jacket.

"Here," he said handing Mike his credit card. "Make yourself a nice evening with Rachel."

Mike frowned at the card. "Are you _sure_ you're not dying or something? Because you just gave me your credit card."

Harvey didn't reply. He would have luckily given Mike all his money if it had eased the guilt.

Mike was almost at the door when Harvey spoke up again.

"It wasn't your father's fault."

Mike hesitated a second before he turned. His expression was sad and the sight of it felt like a knife in Harvey's gut.

"Thank you, Harvey," Mike said quietly before he left.

The door had long closed when Harvey brought himself to finish the statement at last: "It's not his fault, because it's mine." 


	2. Chapter 2

"We need to talk." Harvey stepped into Jessica's house before she could so much as greet him.

He could feel her eyes running over him, wondering what she saw. His hair was certainly dishevelled and he knew that he was shaking slightly.

"What's wrong?" Jessica's tone was calm and Harvey quietly thanked her for not making a fuss about the fact that he showed up in the middle of the night.

Still, he could hardly bring himself to say it, even though she already knew part of it.

"I killed Mike Ross's parents," he managed at last.

He saw Jessica's eyes widen, a frown appearing between her eyes, before at last she understood.

"Are you sure it was them?" she asked at last.

He nodded, not quite trusting his voice. With a shaking hand he held up the file Mike had left on his living room table.

"The date is right," he whispered as she took it. "The place…"

"Where did you get this?" Jessica asked calmly as she flipped through the file.

"Mike brought it… This lawyer gave it to him, because it turns out his father had had a couple of bears that night…" He had to stop, because the lump in his throat wouldn't allow him to say anything else. Mike was blaming his father for this, he was blaming _his father_ because Harvey didn't have it in him to tell the truth. He could scarcely imagine how much it must hurt Mike to think that his father had been responsible for it all.

"Did you tell him?"

Harvey shook his head. "I couldn't bring myself to do it…" Tears were clouding his eyes.

Through the layer of liquid he could see Jessica nod before she reached for his arm to walk him to her couch. "You're shaking," she observed, and Harvey realised that he was.

"H-he'll hate me," he whispered, burying his face in his hands. Images he had long suppressed were rising again in his mind. The flash of headlights, the sound of screeching tires on a wet street, metal crumbling… He remembered spinning around, hitting his shoulder hard against something.

He must have passed out, because he remembered thinking he was dead when he woke up again. The truth was that it had not even taken him off the road, the sound of the metal crumbling had not been his car. He remembered peering out of the window, he remembered the lump of metal barely resembling a car slung around a tree. He remembered how he had started to shake, how he had clung to the steering wheel.

"Harvey? Harvey, are you even listening?"

He blinked. He hadn't even realised Jessica was talking to him. He shook his head, taking deep breaths to calm himself.

"I cannot absolve you from your guilt, Harvey, but it was an accident. You weren't drunk or drugged. And it was that other guy who drove into their car…"

"It's me who made them drive off the road," Harvey said tonelessly. He had been tired, yet nervous about his first drive in the dark. Somehow he had been too far to the left without even realising it, they hadn't had another choice but to swerve to the right against the goddamned tree. That Taylor Porter had managed to crash his car into theirs mere minutes later had been good luck for Harvey, who was never associated with the accident. Not so much for Mike's parents. Harvey wondered if they had still been alive when he had driven away. Either way he had killed them.

"I should have stayed," he muttered, realising it was the first time he thought this. Up until then he had been glad everything had sorted itself out.

Now this way of thinking disgusted him so much that he wanted to throw up again.

"Yes, you should have," Jessica said. "But you were a frightened minor, Harvey. I've seen you that night, you were in no state to make any rational decision."

"I was rational enough to look for a lawyer," Harvey said bitterly.

Jessica scoffed. "Yes, and you choose to come to me. A corporate lawyer..."

He remembered leaving through the phone book with shaking fingers, remembered finding Jessica's name. Just days before there had been an article about how she was one of the most promising Junior Partners in NewYork. It had been a long shot to drive to her house but he had been desperate enough to do it. Later they would tell the world they had met in the mailroom but it had never been true. They had met that dreadful night.

"Harvey," Jessica said with a surprisingly soft voice, reaching for Harvey's arm. "I can understand that you want to tell him, but as the lawyer you looked for back then and as a friend I will tell you this: He isn't going to find out on his own. But if you tell him I'm not sure he'll be able to forgive you and that would hurt both of you."

Harvey looked up at her and for a moment he was the scared sixteen year old again, looking to her for advice. He wanted to believe her. Wanted to believe that not saying anything was the right choice. But then Mike's worried face swam into view and he found he couldn't bear it. He couldn't bear Mike looking at him concerned when there should be hatred.

"I can't live with this secret," he confessed quietly.

She looked at him for a while, not saying a word.

"It is your decision," she said at last. "Just remember it might bring us all down."

He knew what she meant. Mike's secret was looming over them, waiting for one of them to be angry enough to use it.

The thought made his stomach clench, not so much because it was his career that was on the line, but because Mike would also hurt himself. 

* * *

_I know the scenario is a bit of stretch but it's an AU, I really wanted to explore. Hope you like it. Also I don't mind reviews ;)  
_ _Will try to update tomorrow._


	3. Chapter 3

When Harvey's alarm sounded the following morning he felt terrible. He was nauseous and hot, his sheets drenched with sweat. He hadn't slept, unable to shake the images of that fateful night. He wondered how he had been able to oppress them all those years. His head was throbbing too, if from the lack of sleep or the guilt he couldn't say.

He had tried to find the words to tell Mike, but everything he could think of sounded hollow. He couldn't fix it. He couldn't offer Mike anything that would make things remotely right.

When he pushed himself to sit, the world started to spin, the edges of his vision fading, and with a groan he sank back down between the sheets.  
The alarm buzzed again, much too soon, and sunlight was starting to creep through the blinds. 

* * *

It wasn't that Harvey was ever particularly early for client meetings, but Mike couldn't remember him ever being could tell that their client was starting to get irritated by Harvey's lateness too: Oliver Stratford kept glancing at his watch pointedly and -after they had hit the five minutes mark - he started to impatiently drum on the table with his fingers.

"Will you excuse me for a minute, Mr Stratford?" Mike asked at last. It was quite humiliating and the fact that Mr Stratford said „Sure, kid" didn't help much.

"Where the hell is Harvey?" Mike hissed as soon as he reached Donna, not bothering to greet her.

"In your meeting with Stratford, I suppose. Did you forget about that?"

"No, _I_ didn't forget about it!" Mike snapped. "Harvey, might have though."

Donna frowned. "He isn't there?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you!" Mike paused. "Wait, has he been in at all?"

After the night with Rachel he had almost forgotten about Harvey throwing up the night before.

"No, he hasn't. Why?" Donna asked and Mike could hear concern in her voice even though she was trying not to let it show.

"Shit!" Mike bit his lips. Why hadn't he checked on Harvey? True the lawyer hadn't seemed exactly as if he was about to die but he should have checked on him this morning.

"Okay, Donna," he said trying to think of a plan. "Reschedule with Stratford, I need to go."

"Reschedule? He's already here!"

"I know," Mike snapped, already trying to figure out if he would be faster by bike or by cab.

"Mike, what's wrong?" Donna reached for his arm so that he couldn't run off.

„Harvey threw up last night," Mike explained. „He told me he just needed some rest…"

"And you left him like that? Without having him see a doctor?"

Donna had jumped to her feet.

"Well, it looked like it was just a bug. It probably _i_ _s_ ," he added, trying to calm himself. "I just need to go and check on him."

"I'll come too." Donna was already reaching for her bag.

"No," Mike said firmly. "You'll reschedule his meetings. I don't think he's dying so you'll help him more by doing this."

Donna hesitated and sat back down. "He didn't call though," she said quietly.

"Maybe he doesn't want to admit to being ill," Mike said, desperately wanting to believe his own words. 

* * *

Mike had opted for his bike, making him arrive at Harvey's condo drenched in sweat. He really hoped Harvey wasn't too well now because otherwise he would never hear the end about ruining the suit.

He knocked on the door, wondering what he would do if Harvey didn't answer it. Call an ambulance? But what if Harvey wasn't there after all? Break the door down himself? He let his eyes run over the massive wood. Frankly, he didn't know if he could do that...

His first few tentative knocks went unanswered, making his stomach clench.

"Harvey!" he called, flat hand banging against the door. "Harvey please open the goddamn door!"

With shaking fingers he started to fumble for his phone, when at last the door swung open.

"Harvey!" Relieve flooded over him, and he only just kept himself from embracing Harvey.

"Mike." Harvey's voice was unusually weary and only then did Mike start to take in the details: Harvey was still wearing his pyjamas, his sweat damp hair was clinging to his forehead. He had dark bags under his eyes and Mike would have sworn he was swaying.

"Harvey?" he asked tentatively, tasting the concern on his tongue.

"Thought we already established that." The tone didn't match the quirkiness of the words, and Mike was quite sure now that he was fighting to stay upright.

"Why did you come here, Mike?" Harvey asked at last. "Did you talk to Jessica?"

"Jessica?" Mike echoed.

"She knows," Harvey muttered, turning his eyes away from Mike. "But I guess you figured it out by yourself..."

Harvey's eyes were closing, and Mike only just managed to catch him as he fell forwards. He could feel Harvey's body burning through the pyjamas as he guided him to the ground.

"You're sick," he said, the words feeling strange in his mouth. Because it was probably not just the flu, he realised. Harvey was _really_ sick and he had been hiding it. Only Jessica knew.

"You could put it like that," Harvey muttered, the words barely audible.

"Do you have medication?" Mike enquired. "Do you need a doctor?"

But Harvey only stared back in confusion.

"I'm dialling 911." Mike was already reaching for his phone, but Harvey shook his head.

"No ambulance," he managed. "I'm not ill..."

Mike scoffed and hit the call button. "Yeah, tell that story to somebody else."


	4. Chapter 4

"Mike…" Harvey's mind was so foggy that he could hardly think, but at last he realised that Mike still didn't know what he had done.

"Sh, Harvey, it's alright…" He felt Mike's cool fingers soothingly run through his hair.

"Mike, you got it wrong…" Harvey forced himself to open his eyes. Why were his eyelids so heavy? "I'm not ill, it's that I…"

He was interrupted by a coughing fit. It was long and painful and when he drew his hand from his mouth it came away red.

"The ambulance will be here soon," Mike whispered.

Harvey didn't manage to reply but simply leaned into Mike's touch. He knew it was wrong. He knew he didn't deserve Mike's support but it was so easy…

"Mr Specter? Can you hear me?" He blinked, forcing his eyes to focus. He didn't know the face that was leaning down to him. His head was throbbing painfully and he felt quite hot.

"Harvey?" Mike's voice. He could see the kid's face shift in his field of vision, felt him reach for his hand, his fingers cool against his own burning skin.

"Mr Specter?" the paramedic tried again.

Harvey somehow managed a brief nod, his eyes falling shut again.

"Mr Specter, we will put you on a gurney now and get you to the hospital…"

He could feel Mike still holding on to his hand as they moved him to the gurney not even flinching away when Harvey was shook by another coughing fit.

He heard Mike and the paramedics talking but he couldn't bring himself to listen to what they said. The only thing that reached him were Mike's whispered reassurances. 

Mike knew that he was probably driving everyone crazy by pacing up and down the waiting room, but he couldn't bring himself to sit still. He knew he should call Donna, he knew that if he dared to glance at his phone there would be twenty missed calls from her. But he didn't think he could talk to anyone, not when he didn't even know what was wrong with Harvey. He tried to remember if there had been any signs of Harvey being sick before but he couldn't think of anything.

"Mike." He turned, surprised to find Jessica walking towards him.

"Jessica."

"How is he?" As usually Jessica cut to the core of the problem without much ado.

"I don't know," Mike admitted. He ran his fingers through his hair trying to collect himself.

"He looked terrible," he said at last, "he coughed blood and he was burning up… If I had known he was this sick last night…"

Jessica shook her head. "You couldn't have known. I've seen him last night too and there was no way to tell…"

Mike frowned, remembering how Harvey had asked if Jessica had told him.

"Did you know he is sick?" he asked.

Jessica shook her head. "I had no idea. He was a bit out of it yesterday of course but I never would have thought he was actually ill…"

"What happened yesterday?" Mike wondered, but Jessica just shook her head.

"Did the doctors tell you anything yet?" Jessica asked, changing the topic.

Mike shook his head. "No word yet…"

As Jessica sat down Mike felt like he didn't have a choice but to follow suit. He kept fidgeting in his seat, even though he tried to contain himself.

"Was it really this bad?" Jessica asked quietly after a while. "You still look quite shaken…"

"I don't know," Mike sighed. "It's just that I think it could be serious. I have never seen Harvey anywhere close to being so vulnerable…"

They sat in silence again, Mike's eyes darting around the waiting room while Jessica took out her phone.

"Did you come with Harvey Specter?"

"Yes." Mike almost knocked Jessica's phone out of her hand, so quickly he got to his feet.

„You can come to see him now."

Mike just stared at the doctor for a few seconds. „But what's wrong with him?" he blurted at last. He had waited so long for an answer now that he couldn't believe she wouldn't give him one.

The doctor frowned. "Are you family?"

Mike shook his head.

"So I have no right to tell you."

"But," Mike started to protest until he felt Jessica's hand on his arm.

"Let it go, Mike." 

* * *

Mike didn't know what he had expected but it had certainly involved a lot more wires and tubes. But there were no tubes or oxygen masks. Only an IV and a heart monitor. Harvey's eyes were closed when they stepped in but flickered open as they walked towards his bed.

"Hey," Mike said softly, reaching for Harvey's hand.

"Hey," Harvey replied, but turned his head away when Mike searched his gaze.

"You really scared me there," Mike whispered, gently squeezing Harvey's hand.

"I'm sorry." There was something desperate in Harvey's eyes when he turned towards Mike.

"You don't need to be," Mike assured him, and for some reason the words made Harvey's face twist as if he were in pain.

"Mike, I think you should go." He felt Jessica's hand on his shoulder gently pulling him away from Harvey. He blinked at her.

"Why?" What had he possibly done? He looked from Jessica to Harvey and back, but their faces betrayed nothing.

"Mike, please." Jessica's words weren't so much a bid as an order and reluctantly Mike let go of Harvey's hand.

He didn't understand why Jessica thought he was distressing Harvey and even less why she seemed to be right.


	5. Chapter 5

Harvey watched Mike walk out of the room hurt and confused and the sight almost broke his heart. He didn't want to be responsible for any more pain in Mike's life but somehow there seemed to be no avoiding it.

He could hear Jessica sigh next to his bed. He knew she was searching his gaze but he couldn't meet was still feeling weak, still feeling too hot, his breath was rattling in his chest and there was a headache that refused to go away.

"Harvey?" Jessica asked tentatively, and he could hear the worry in her voice.

"I..." He didn't know how to finish the sentence. He felt Jessica reach for his arm, her fingers cool on his still feverish skin.

"It was an accident," she said quietly. "I don't think that Mike will be able to see it like that though. He will be hurt and angry and he might do something to hurt both of you."

Harvey gave a slow nod. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to clasp at every straw that permitted him not to tell Mike, not to break their relationship forever.

"Very well," Jessica said as he didn't protest. "I will send him back to the firm, give him some work."

She moved to leave but before she could walk away, Harvey managed to reach for her wrist.  
„I have leukaemia." The words came so quiet that he hardly heard them himself, but he could feel Jessica freeze. 

* * *

Harvey knew the-good-or-bad-news-first game, he had played it himself often enough. So when the doctor asked the question, he knew that the good news would be the kind of good news that only marginally improved the bad news.

Still he wasn't prepared for what the doctor said.

He wasn't prepared for the numbness it would make spread through his body, for how part of his mind detached and understood while the rest still processed the words.

"Leukaemia?" he echoed at last. "As in cancer?"

"Yes," the doctor confirmed, his voice calm and professional. "The good news is though that we have found it quite early."

The doctor probably went on talking, because his mouth kept moving, but Harvey didn't hear him.

How could he have cancer? He had been fine just a day ago! Was this him getting what he deserved for the role he had played in the death of Mike's parents? He didn't believe in God or fate but the coincidence just made it seem as if there was a greater power at work.

"Mr Specter?" The doctor's face was that would be enough to make Harvey leap into attack mode to prove that he wasn't weak, but he didn't find it in him.

"Mr Specter, I know this diagnosis is hard to process. If you want I can give you some time..."

Swallowing hard Harvey shook his head. "No. I want to know how we are going to proceed." 

* * *

"Oh Harvey…" He could hear the sympathy in Jessica's voice, read the pain in her eyes.

"He said they'd caught it early…" His voice broke off and he could feel tears running down his cheeks.

Angrily, he whipped them away.

"Have you told anyone yet? Donna? Marcus?"

He shook his head. He didn't even have his phone with him.

"Do you want me to…?"

Again he shook his head, closing his eyes. He could feel Jessica reach up and run her fingers through his hair and he leaned into the touch.

"We will manage," she promised quietly and there was nothing that he wanted to believe more. 

* * *

Mike jumped to his feet as soon as Jessica stepped out of Harvey's room. She had been in there with Harvey for almost half an hour.

"How is he?" he asked anxiously.

It took Jessica a few seconds to turn towards him, her eyes focusing only slowly.

"You should go back to the firm," she said then, her voice curiously flat.

"What? You send me out of the room for no reason and then you want to just go back to work?!" He could hear his voice rise but he didn't care.

"Mike," Jessica said warningly, but her voice was weary it wasn't enough to stop him from walking right past her.

He could see from the way Harvey blinked, that he had woken him and Mike felt a pang of guilt. It was clear that Harvey needed sleep. He looked more tired than Mike had ever seen him, his face pale and damp with sweat.

"Mike!" Jessica hissed and he could feel her reach for his arm to lead him back into the corridor.

He was just about to follow when Harvey said: "Let him stay."

His voice was curiously weak and Mike noticed he had closed his eyes looked to Jessica, who hesitated before she gave a short nod.

Mike's knees felt strangely jelly-like as he walked towards Harvey's bed.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Mike asked softly as he sat down next to Harvey's bed, automatically reaching for Harvey's hand. It was warm and damp with sweat.

"I'm going to find out anyway," Mike pointed out, a soft smile on his lips, as he reached up to wipe some pearls of sweat off Harvey's forehead.

"Mike, I…" Harvey opened his eyes, searching Mike's gaze. He had a weird expression on his face, one Mike couldn't quite place. He looked vulnerable and in his look there was an openness Mike had never seen. "I…"

"He has leukaemia," Jessica cut in from behind.

„Leukaemia?" Mike felt as if someone had hit him in the stomach. „That's not true!"

He didn't know he had stood up until he stumbled backwards knocking over the chair he had sat on which went down with a loud noise.  
For a second it seemed as if Harvey would contradict what Jessica had just said but then the spark of resistance vanished from his eyes.

"It is, Mike," he admitted in a weary voice.

"No." Mike shook his head. This couldn't be true. Harvey couldn't leave him too…

"They caught it early," Harvey explained. "There is a good chance that chemo will work…"

„You already talked about treatment?" All of this just seemed happening too quickly. For God's sake, the day before Harvey had still been fine…

Harvey nodded. "They will run some more tests to confirm the diagnosis, but according to the doctor it's pretty much settled. They will probably start the treatment on Monday."

"Monday," Mike echoed taking some breaths to collect himself. The room seemed to be spinning but slowly he managed to regain control and when he opened his eyes again he knew that they were sparkling with determination.

„You will not die," he said firmly.

It coaxed a smile out of Harvey but Mike couldn't help noticing that there was a certain sadness to it.


	6. Chapter 6

Harvey, what are you doing here?" Mike hissed sharply. He had not expected Harvey to come to work, not after what had happened the day before. But there Harvey was in a three piece suit, sitting behind his desk. He seemed maybe more tired than usual but otherwise Mike had to admit that he looked just as impeccable as ever.

"I work here," Harvey said flatly, arching an eyebrow at Mike. "Which is something you should be doing too, by the way."

"Cut that back," Mike snapped. He was in no mood for any banter. „You should be in hospital."

Harvey sighed. "No, I shouldn't. There isn't anything they can do for me until my treatment starts."

"You should be resting," Mike insisted. "What if you overexert yourself?"

"Mike, I'm not running a marathon, I'm sitting down reading files. And if you won't stop mothering me, I will stop telling you anything concerning my health!"

"You do realise I'm just trying to help?" Mike snapped.

"And _you_ do realise you're not helping?" Harvey had gotten to his feet, his eyes sparkling with anger. "Just leave, Mike!"

For a moment Mike lingered, ready to snap back at Harvey, but then he realised it would be useless.

"Fine," he sighed. "Just, Harvey, please don't take any risks…" 

* * *

Mike had barely left when Donna came into Harvey's office.

"What was this about?" she asked and he wouldn't have needed her accusing tone to know that she had been listening in.

Still, he feigned ignorance. "What was what about?"

"Mike saying you should be in hospital!"

He kept his eyes at his files, unable to face her. "You know Mike. Remember how he freaked out when he found out his grammy was taking heart medicine?"

"Well, his grandmother is dead now," Donna hissed. „And you talked about ‚treatment' yourself!"

For a moment he kept looking at the file, then Donna tore it from his hands.

"Look at me!" she demanded. Her voice was stern, almost furious, but Harvey noticed the tremor stealing into it.

"Donna, please…" He hardly knew what he was asking for when he said the words, but he realised he simply couldn't tell her.

He closed his eyes in resignation. „I'm sorry, but I can't talk about it. Not right now…"

He felt a lump in his throat that made it hard to breathe and that had nothing to do with his illness.

"Talk about what, Harvey?"

"Donna." It was Mike's voice coming from the door. "Let him be."

Harvey chanced glancing up, finding Mike leaning against the door with his arms crossed.

He could see Donna open her mouth to protest but when Mike shook his head she closed it again and walked out of the room.

"Thanks," Harvey muttered.

"You know you need to tell her sooner or later, right?"

Harvey nodded. He knew that. He knew he would have to tell her why he was missing appointments, why she had to clear large parts of his schedule, but he could hardly bear the thought of the concern on her face. 

* * *

"Okay, Harvey," Mike said on Monday morning , putting a foot into Harvey's apartment to avoid having the door slammed in his face. "You can either make a big fuss about me coming along or you don't, but either way, I'm not leaving."

He looked at Harvey challengingly almost daring him to object.

"I'm not going to make a fuss," Harvey sighed, stepping aside so that Mike could come in. "Actually I'm glad you're here."

"What? Really?"

"Did you hope to make me miserable?" Harvey asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Mike stuttered. "It's just... You didn't seemed to like being cared about earlier."

Harvey gave a long sigh. "I didn't like you mothering me. I still don't. But if you can avoid looking at me as if I'm already on my death bed, I appreciate you being there. They said it would be better to bring someone anyway..."

They sat down on the couch and Mike found himself nervously playing around with one of the pillows.

"Can I offer you something?" Harvey asked after a while. "I have quite a decent coffee machine..."

Mike shook his head. He had hardly slept the night before but he was still too anxious to feel tired.

"Fine," Harvey said with a shrug, "if you really want to miss out on my amazing coffee..."  
They sat there in silence again, none of them sure what to say. Mike kept glancing to the clock, finding that Harvey was doing the same.

„It's a bit like waiting for the hangman, isn't it?" Harvey tried to joke, but Mike just shrugged as he couldn't find anything funny in this reference to death.

The minutes dragged by, inflating into small eternities during which none of them found the words to start a conversation.

So when Harvey got up at last, Mike was almost relieved. He almost jumped to his feet, ready for anything that would end the awkward situation.

Their ride to the hospital was just as silent as their waiting in the flat. They had taken a cab and Mike briefly wondered if Ray simply had another appointment or if Harvey avoided him on purpose. He wasn't even sure if Harvey had already told Donna.

"Did you tell your brother?" Mike asked at some point. He could tell from Harvey's expression that he took the question as a reproach even though Mike hadn't meant as one.  
He was merely curious if that was something brothers talked about as he was an only child and the notion of sibling had always seemed weird to him.

"I didn't," Harvey said curtly. "It's not like he could help me."

"I wasn't chastising you," Mike muttered. "I was just trying to make conversation."

Harvey sighed. "Sorry… I didn't mean to be rude."

Mike could tell how stressed out Harvey was just by the fact that he apologised; also his fingers were drumming on his thigh and Mike knew very well that even though he was looking out of the window he wasn't seeing anything that passed by.

"Hey, you okay?" Mike asked gently nudging Harvey's shoulder. They had arrived at the hospital but Harvey didn't show any intention to move.

Harvey nodded slowly. Mike could see he was unnaturally pale, his face mask-like.  
It took some more seconds and a few more deep breaths before Harvey reached for the door handle at last.

He was swaying slightly when he got up and when he closed the door he leaned on the cab for a few seconds.

"Harvey?" Mike asked worriedly but when Harvey straightened he looked all like his normal self, ready to take on no matter who.

Only he wasn't going to face another lawyer or a judge. No, the nature of Harvey's opponent was completely different this time and Mike wasn't sure if he had it in him to face it. 

* * *

**Lilo and Guest, thank you very much for your reviews, I really appreciate getting some feedback :)**


	7. Chapter 7

Harvey had started to feel nauseous about two hours into the chemo session but he had been able to fight it off. The ride home was another matter. He took short, shallow breaths trying to fight the bile rising in his throat. His head was leaning against the window pane, but even the feeling of the cool glass against his flushed skin hardly helped against the nausea. Mike took his hand at some point in silent support and Harvey was glad for it.

When they arrived at his place Harvey left Mike to deal with the cabbie while he slowly walked into the building. All he wanted was to bend over and give in to his revolting stomach but somehow he made it to the elevator. Mike had caught up with him by then, gently guiding him towards the door.

Harvey wanted to keep the bile in at least until he reached the bathroom, but when they stepped into his condo he lacked the strength and the will. He doubled over, heaving onto the floor, barely noticing how Mike guided him to his knees. He had never liked throwing up, hated the taste of bile, the feeling of the half digested food washing over his tongue… when he was done he felt flushed and dirty, yet he would have liked nothing better than just lie down and rest.

"Hey," Mike said gently, and only then Harvey realised how he was leaning onto his associate. "You okay?"

"Hm," Harvey made, giving a short nod. He didn't rise though but stayed where he was..

"You think you're up to walking to the sofa?" Mike asked after a few minutes, gently nudging Harvey's side.

Harvey didn't think he was, but still he nodded dragging himself to his feet with Mike's help. He more stumbled than walked to the sofa, leaning heavily on Mike.

"I'll get you some water," Mike promised when he had laid Harvey down, rushing over to the kitchen counter.

"Thanks," Harvey muttered as he took the glass, groaning as he pushed himself up to sit. He was still nauseous and flushed but he felt some of his strength returning as he gulped down the water.

"How are you feeling?" Mike asked quietly, taking the empty glass from Harvey to get some more water.

"Been better," Harvey replied, leaning back against the couch with his eyes closed. He could feel a headache develop behind his temples and his throat was getting tense again.

„There is a bucket under the sink," he mumbled, not even sure if Mike could hear him.

"What?"

"Bucket. Under the sink," Harvey managed but it was too late already. He threw up again, heaving up the water he had just drunk.

"Never mind," he muttered as he was finished, sinking back on the sofa. He was feeling so weak and tired...

"You should get some sleep," Mike suggested softly.

Harvey didn't reply but he knew Mike was right. If only the way to his bedroom wasn't that long…

"Come on, Harvey." He could feel Mike reach under his arms, trying to pull him up.

"I've got a meeting with Stratford," he protested weakly, remembering Donna had rescheduled it.

"Yes, and he will be so thrilled when you throw up all over his shoes…" 

* * *

„You want some dinner?" Mike asked quietly as he stepped into Harvey's bedroom. Harvey had dozed off three hours ago after he had gotten sick again but now his eyes were open.

The lawyer shook his head. He didn't look quite as bad as he had when Mike had dragged him to the bed but even after some hours of sleep he still seemed tired.

"Bucket?" Mike suggested sympathetically and when Harvey shook his head this time, he managed a weary smile.

"Some water would be nice though …"

"Of course." Mike got some water from the kitchen and sat down on the edge of Harvey's bed. "So how are you feeling?"

"Better than before…" Harvey said, slowly pushing himself up to sit. "How long have I slept?"

"About three hours."

"You didn't have to stay that long," Harvey said quietly.

Mike shrugged. "I read some files, and your sofa was quite comfy."

"Tried some coffee?"

"Yeah, about that… There isn't any self-destruct button on the coffee machine, right? Because if there is I may have hit it."

Harvey raised an eyebrow. "What did you do?"

"Nothing! I just tired to make coffee and suddenly there was hot steam everywhere… I'm actually surprised you didn't wake up from the noise it made."

"And how did you solve the problem?"

Mike shrugged. "I just pulled the plug."

Harvey shook his head in feigned exasperation. "You know, I never would have hired you if I had known you weren't even able to work a coffee machine."

"Well, you didn't hire me for making you coffee."

"Actually, I think I did."

Mike could feel a smile stealing onto his face. It felt good to banter with Harvey, it was almost as if everything was normal.

"You're sure you don't want to eat anything?" he asked, taking Harvey's glass when he had drunk up the water.

Harvey nodded. "I'm not hungry and I'm really not in the mood for throwing up again..."

He closed his eyes again, then lay back down and rolled onto his side.

"You want to sleep some more?"

Harvey shook his head. "Not quite yet… What files did you read?"

Mike started to talk about the case he had been working on, watching Harvey's expression relax at the sound of his voice. It didn't take very long until Harvey's steady breathing told him the lawyer had fallen asleep again, but Mike still stayed with him. 

* * *

"Breakfast?" Harvey asked, gently nudging Mike's shoulder. The kid had fallen asleep on his sofa working as one could easily tell from the file that had slipped off his lap onto the ground.

Mike blinked sleepily. "What time is it?" he yawned, frowning when his eyes focused on Harvey. "Where do you think you're going?"

"It's 7 am and I am not just thinking about but also I'm going to go to work."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Mike asked and Harvey could hear the concern in his voice.

"Yes," he said firmly. "And nothing you say is going to change it, so suck it up."

Mike sighed. "Fine. You'll have breakfast too?"

"Sure. I also fixed the evil coffee machine." Harvey handed him a cup. "It's not that hard when you know what you're doing. Now scoot over."

Harvey sat down on the sofa next to Mike, and for a while they were just quietly sipping their coffees.

"So I take it you're feeling better?" Mike asked eventually.

Harvey nodded. He was still slightly nauseous but he hadn't thrown up in over twelve hours and he wouldn't rule out tha# he was feeling queasy because he hadn't eaten in almost a day.

He cleared his throat. "Thank you for staying here. You didn't have to."

"I wanted to," Mike said and Harvey felt a pang of guilt. He still hadn't told Mike about the part he played in his parents' death, he hadn't even thought about it for days. But now it started nagging at the back of his mind again.

Something must have shown on his face, because there was concern in Mike's gaze again.

"You're feeling sick?"

He kind of was but he had a feeling it had little to do with the chemo. He shook his head.

"Sorry, just lost in thoughts." He just couldn't bring himself to tell Mike. He didn't even know how to tell Mike. ‚By the way, the car accident your parents died in. That was me. I was only a minor though, so no hard feelings, yeah?'

No, he simply couldn't. Just the thought of how much it would hurt Mike made his stomach clench.

"You are feeling sick," Mike pointed out, handing him the bucket.

"I'm not, promise," Harvey insisted.

"Well, still keep the bucket. Makes cleaning up a lot easier."

Harvey sighed. "I'm really sorry, Mike. I know that all of this wasn't in the job description."

Mike gave an ironic smile. "You know I never cared about the job description. Just wanted to ditch the cops."


	8. Chapter 8

Harvey managed to keep up the impression that everything was normal in the office for almost a week.

For all Mike knew he hadn't told anyone about his illness, and the next two chemo sessions were so late in the evening that even Donna didn't notice them as gaps in his schedule. The treatment was draining him more and more though and one day he had to lie down in a client meeting.

Ellen Lagard just had been talking to them when Harvey had pushed himself from his seat just to tumble right to the ground.

"I'm fine," Harvey had muttered as soon as Mike had knelt down next to him even though his eyes were closed and his breaths came in short puffs. "Just tired…"

"It's okay," Mike assured, gently running his fingers through Harvey's hair.

"Do you want me to call an ambulance?"

Harvey shook his head.

"Go home?"

At that Harvey nodded. "Just give me a minute…"

It had been five but at last Harvey had staggered to his feet with Mike's help.  
Mike remembered everyone staring at them as they had slowly walked to the elevators, associates stopping dead in their tracks, partners stepping out of their offices.

"What's going on here?" Jessica's voice had echoed through the floor as she noticed the crowd.

No one replied.

„It's Mr Specter," one of the first year associates managed at last pointing to Harvey and Mike with a shaking finger.

„And what's there to see?" Jessica asked, hardly sparing them a glance. "Everyone back to work."

Her order was reluctantly followed and only then Mike noticed Donna standing frozen in the hallway. She seemed to just have returned from her lunch break, as she was holding a bagel and a cup of coffee.

"Harvey?" she gasped as they approached her, the coffee slipping out of her fingers. "What's wrong with him?"

Jessica scoffed. "He's having chemotherapy, how chirpy do you expect him to look?"

"Chemotherapy?" Donna echoed and Mike could feel Harvey freeze in his arms. So he hadn't told her.

"I'm sorry, Donna," Harvey managed, slowly raising his head. Then his legs buckled under him and Mike had to dive downwards to keep him from falling.

"Now might not be the time to explain," he panted.

"Chemotherapy?" Donna repeated once more, still thunderstruck as they stumbled past her.

"I should have told her," Harvey muttered as they were in the elevator, Harvey leaning heavily against the wall.

Mike just nodded. Of course Harvey should have told her but there was little to be done about it now. "How bad is it?"

Harvey gave a weak shrug. „I don't know… I just want to lie down. Have been tired all day…" Mike noticed his eyes falling shut again as they reached the ground floor.

"Come on," he said encouragingly, slipping under Harvey's arm. "Just a little cab ride and you'll be in your king size bed."

* * *

Harvey did not return to work after that day. He was too tired to focus on any files and spend most of the day in bed. The nausea had returned too, even though Harvey hardly threw up since he was on his two week break between the sessions.

"How are you feeling today?" Mike asked quietly as he came into Harvey's bedroom. It was only eight o'clock but the lights were already turned off and he didn't want to wake him.

"Been better," Harvey muttered and Mike could hear him shift in the covers as he sat up.

"Throat still bad?"

Harvey had developed throat sores a few days ago and it had become increasingly hard to get him to eat.

"Yeah," Harvey admitted, searching for the light switch.

Mike gave a sympathetic sigh and turned on the light.

"Have you gotten up yet?" he asked, noticing Harvey was still in the same pyjamas as the day before.

"I went to get some water around noon…" Harvey glanced to the clock. "God, 8 o'clock already."

"How much did you drink today?" Mike asked, pouring a glass of water for Harvey.

"You're worse than my mother ever was," Harvey muttered but still took the water.

"Well done," Mike praised ironically as Harvey drank. "And now you go to have a nice little shower, and then we'll have dinner."

"I guess I can't object?"

"Overruled," Mike pointed out with a smile.

With a sigh Harvey skirted to the edge of the bed. "What's for dinner?"

"Sushi."

Harvey gave an approving nod and pushed himself to his feet. As he did, his shirt slipped up for a second and Mike gasped.

"What's this?" he asked, leaping forward to pull the shirt up again.

"A bruise," Harvey said curtly, trying to shake Mike off. "I bruise more easily, it's another awesome side effect of the leukaemia."

The bruise was black and spanning almost all of Harvey's hip.

§Does it hurt?" Mike enquired, gently prodding the blackened skin.

Harvey winced. "As a matter of fact it does," he snapped, decisively pulling the shirt back down.

"How did you get it?" Mike asked.

"I told you I bruise easily." Harvey started to walk towards the bathroom, but Mike reached for his arm to hold him back.

"How did you get the bruise, Harvey?"

For a moment they were locking gazes, fighting a silent battle of will. It was Harvey who gave in at last. "I slipped in the shower."

"Slipped or fainted?"

"Slipped. Now, can I go into said shower?"

Mike hesitated, still holding on to Harvey's arm. "What if you slip again?"

"I'll probably get another bruise," Harvey snapped, tearing loose his arm. "I told you I don't appreciate being fussed over!"

He walked off angrily, and Mike resisted the urge to call him back. He knew very well Harvey wouldn't listen and part of him was glad to see Harvey back to his normal self.

While Harvey showered, Mike changed the sheets and set the dinner table.

"No new bruises?" he asked when Harvey stepped in the living room clad only in a bathrobe.

"No new bruises," Harvey confirmed, sitting down at the table."„So sushi?" he asked reaching for one of the boxes. "Did Rachel pick?"

"Yep," Mike confirmed. "You bought some for her too by the way."

"Ah, yes, you guys still have my credit card… Is there anything else I should know I have been paying for?"

"Just food, which has been for you too. Oh and a coffee machine. Same as yours so I can practise at home."

"So you did like the coffee."

"Might have," Mike admitted with a small smile.

„I brought you some sage drops," Mike said reaching for his bag as they had finished their dinner. "They're supposed to be good for your throat."

„Thanks," Harvey said taking one of the drops. He leaned back on his chair, eyes half-closed but Mike felt it was more out of content than fatigue.

"Wanna watch a movie?" Harvey suggested. "Or do you want to go back to Rachel?"

"Movie is fine. Rachel's probably still at work anyway."

Harvey's expression darkened slightly. "Making up for me not being there?"

"The great Harvey Specter thinks he's replaceable with a paralegal?" Mike asked with a risen eyebrow.

"Fine I rephrase. Making up for _you_ not being there?"

"You know she's working at one of Manhattan's biggest law firms, pulling all nighters isn't that uncommon."

"Good, movie it is then." He looked at Mike with sudden interest. "Do you ever rewatch movies?"

Mike shrugged. "Mostly I don't. It's fine though. I'll fight off the urge to say everything along with the actors."

But Harvey shook his head. "No, let's watch something new."


	9. Chapter 9

They were twenty minutes into the movie when Mike noticed that Harvey was getting uneasy, shifting from one position to another.

"You okay?" Mike asked when Harvey sank against him at last, the older lawyer's forehead warm against his cheek.

"Hm," Harvey made, eyes opened only a slit.

Mike put an arm around him, gently stroking his side to soothe him.

"I think I need the bucket," Harvey moaned a few minutes later. It was still standing next to the couch so that Mike just had to reach forward to pick it up. Harvey bent over it, but he only dry-heaved several times before he sank back against Mike.

"Wanna go to bed?" Mike suggested quietly. None of them had been following the movie for the past twenty minutes anyway. Harvey gave a weak nod, but made no motion to move.

"Come on," Mike said softly at last. „I can tell you that the couch isn't very comfortable to sleep on anyway…"

He slung an arm around Harvey to draw him up to his feet but froze as Harvey gave a pained whimper.

"Harvey?" he asked with concern.

"Bruise," Harvey gasped.

"Oh…" Mike repositioned his hands and pulled Harvey up carefully.

Five minutes later Harvey was tugged into his bed with Mike sitting at his bedside. "I put the bucket next to your bed," he told Harvey. "Just in case."

"Thanks," Harvey muttered, his voice barely audible.

"So what is it this time?" Mike asked.

"Stomach pain mostly," Harvey whimpered, wincing as a convulsion ran through his body.

Mike sighed. Harvey had been so well just earlier this evening, and now he was sweating and shaking.

"Do you feel cold?" Mike asked softly.

"A bit."

"I'll get the blanket from the sofa…"

Mike gently placed the blanket over Harvey as he came back and started to gently run his fingers through Harvey's hair as he had done so many times during the last week to calm Harvey down. Only this time when he drew his hand back a large chunk of Harvey's hair stayed between his fingers. Mike swallowed, watching the short dark blond strands fall on the bed. 

* * *

„Hey, Harvey, wake up." Harvey gave a soft moan as he felt someone shaking his shoulder.

He blinked, surprised to find Mike next to his bed. "What are you doing here?" he asked, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

The sun was shining into his bedroom indicating that is was way earlier than when Mike usually came.

"I thought you should go out at least once while you're still feeling well," Mike said and Harvey watched as he went to the closet to take out some casual clothes.

"I'm _not_ feeling well," Harvey pointed out, leaning back against the headpiece of his bed.

"Well, you'll be feeling even worse two days from now."

"Wow, you know how to cheer people up…" He looked at the clothes Mike was now decisively waving in front of his face. "Seriously, Mike, I don't want to go out."

He could feel a headache growing between his temples, his stomach was queasy and his eyes were already threatening to fall shut already.

Mike sighed. "Please, Harvey. You have not left your condo for almost two weeks. Just a little trip to Central Park."

Harvey glanced sceptically out of the window. "It will be cold," he complained. The sun might have been shining, but he knew in mid-November it wouldn't offer much warmth.

"Then put on a jacket. Or we'll take a blanket."

Harvey sighed. "Where is that even coming from? I remember you fussing about me coming to work and now you want me to go out."

Mike shrugged. "Jessica gave me the day off, so I thought I could seize the opportunity."

"Jessica gave you the day off?" Harvey asked feeling himself tensing up. Did she want them to spend time together so that he could tell Mike about his parents?

"Yeah," Mike said with a shrug. "She cut me quite some slack lately…"

Harvey wondered if that was because of the part she had played in hiding the truth about his parent's death or simply because she wanted Mike to take care of him. Possibly a mix of both he supposed.

"You really don't want to go? You know you will feel worse tomorrow," Mike sighed, dropping the clothes on Harvey's bed. „I even got you a nice cap."

"Wow, you just managed to remind me of how shitty I will feel tomorrow _and_ that my hair is falling out, within two seconds. If Jessica sent you to make me feel better, you're definitely failing."

"Actually, your hair doesn't look that bad," Mike assured. "I was more concerned for heat loss, you know."

Harvey scoffed at the feeble attempt to cheer him up.

He was nowhere near bald yet, but his hair was definitely thinning and in places large chunks were missing. He should have probably shaved them off already, but he had lacked the courage to go through with it.

"Now, come on, put on some clothes and let's go."

"I didn't yet agree," Harvey complained. All he wanted to do was snuggle up under his blanket until he felt better.

"Please, Harvey." There was something in Mike's gaze, a shade of desperation that made it impossible for Harvey to resist.

"Fine," he muttered, and reached for the trousers, trying to ignore how moving made the world around him spin.

"You're going to stay here while I change?"

Mike blushed lightly before he left the room and Harvey couldn't help a satisfied smile.

Dressing was more draining than Harvey ever would have expected it to be. His movements were slow and stiff, and all he wanted was to sink back between the sheets and rest. He had never felt so drained of energy, not even after any of the all-nighters he had pulled at Harvard or as an associate.

When he was dressed at last he was so tired that he had to lie back down. If he just closed his eyes for a little while...

"Harvey!" The panic in Mike's voice was enough to make him jerk awake. "Oh God Harvey, I thought you had passed out..."

Harvey tentatively propped himself on his elbows, watching Mike as he made his way to the bed.

"Sorry, just tired," he muttered as Mike sat down next to him, pushing himself to sit properly. Even though it couldn't be cold in the bedroom, he shivered as the covers fell away.

"We don't have to go out if you don't feel up to it," Mike assured, concern in his eyes as he let them run over Harvey. "It was probably a stupid idea in the first place. I just thought you could use some air..."

"It wasn't a stupid idea," Harvey said decisively and pushed himself to his feet. He didn't like seeing Mike so subdued and the kid was probably right that today was the best he would feel in a while.

For a moment he swayed, but he managed to steady himself before Mike could jump to his help.

His legs felt curiously numb as he slowly walked to the living room. It was probably just because he had stayed in bed the better part of the day but he hated his sickness for making him feel so weak.

Mike stayed close behind him, maybe to catch him if he should stumble but Harvey preferred not to think about it too much.  
He took his coat from the hangers as well as a scarf and put on the woollen hat Mike had brought him.

Just before he walked out he caught sight of himself in the mirror: the heavy coat and the hat were hiding that he'd lost weight and the hair loss and for a moment he managed to convince himself that nothing had changed. But as he looked closer at his face he could see how tired he looked, how much his cheeks had fallen in. The leukaemia was most certainly taking its toll.


End file.
